


Compatibility

by ScribereEstAgere



Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Desire, F/M, Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1386760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribereEstAgere/pseuds/ScribereEstAgere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She lies down, spreads her legs, waits for the inevitable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compatibility

**Author's Note:**

> **These characters do not belong to me.**

//

 

She is one of five people wilting in the waiting room on the hottest day of July: She plus grey-haired lady with walker and oxygen tank; green-snotted boy of about five; green-snotted boy’s mother who’s heavily, miserably pregnant; middle-aged paunchy man who appears to be sleeping. Or, dead. Alex shifts on her chair, tries unsuccessfully to situate herself in front of the lazy, rotating fan. She can actually feel droplets of sweat running between her breasts, pooling above the waistband of her pants. Lovely.

She would like to be anywhere — anywhere — but here. Checking out massive head wounds in the morgue, or stuck in the elevator between Ross and Rodgers. Listening to Bobby drone on and on and _on_ about…anything. The benefits of not having your wisdom teeth pulled. Whatever.

She’s scheduled for her annual internal exam. Whoo. Hoo.

She studies each patient in turn, wonders idly what ails them (Bobby would know, and be dead on probably), then casts about for something to do. She hates waiting. Hates it. Green-Snot catches her eye, sticks out his tongue. She almost sticks hers out in return, _would_ stick it out at her nephew, but manages to stop herself. It’s too fucking hot. There is a pile of worn magazines on the table in front of her. She eyes their dog-eared pages warily, convinced they are teeming with every germ and virus known to mankind. Green-Snot makes another face and looks like he might come over and engage her in some form of (loud) conversation (What are you _doing_ here? Are you _sick_? Why is your shirt so _wet_?), so she quickly grabs the nearest Ebola-infested magazine and pulls it close to her face, effectively shutting him down.

Her eyes focus.

Oh lord.

It’s a teen magazine. She’s staring at page 22, creased and covered in varicoloured pen and pencil markings and lots of hand-drawn hearts. It’s a quiz. It’s a quiz for teenage girls.

_Are you and your crush MEANT FOR EACH OTHER?_

She tries not to laugh. She scans the 12 SIMPLE QUESTIONS designed to determine whether your boy “friend” could possibly be YOUR BOYFRIEND! She sighs, starts to put it down. Then, she glances around the room. Sleeping/Dead Man is still immobile. Grey-Hair is staring at the floor. Her tank hisses. Green-Snot is hanging off his mother’s legs. No one is looking her way. She swallows. She slides her hand into her bag. She pulls out a pen. She shakes her head.

Am I actually going to _do_ this?

1) How long have you known your crush?

Apparently she is. She puts a very small star next to _D) More than two years._

2) Do know when your crush is lying?

She snorts. Obviously not. She stars _B) No_ , then crosses it out and marks _C) Not always._

3) Do you know something is wrong without having to ask?

She laughs out loud. Good god. _A) Yes_ , along with the entire precinct.

4) Do you know when it is time to give him some space?

She thinks of elevator doors closing in her face, of suspensions and unanswered phone calls. _B) Not always._

5) Do you know what he is thinking

_C) Sometimes._

6) Do you know everything about each other?

_B) No._

7) Do you feel weird around your crush?

I feel weird doing this quiz. _C) Sometimes._

8) Does your crush know you like him?

She puts the magazine down. She starts to put the pen away. She stops, sighs, picks it up again. She marks _C) No way!_

9) When your crush passes by, what does he do?

_A) Makes eye contact and smiles. B) Looks away. C) Blushes. D) Taps your shoulder._

What the _hell_?

She wants to add _E) Mumbles something about the latest case you’re not helping to solve then runs away_ , but marks _D)._

10) If you had the chance to ask him out, would you?

_C) I don’t know._

11) Have you ever kissed your crush?

She groans out loud and rubs her forehead.

“Headache, dear?” Grey-Hair is watching her.

“Something like that,” Alex says.

“This heat is terrible, isn’t it?”

“Awful.” She marks _B) No_.

12) How would your crush tell you he really likes you?

She’s deciding between _B) He’d write me a note and slip it in my locker!_ and _C) He would never tell me!_ when her cell chirps. She jams it up to her ear, covers her answers with one hand because she knows who’s calling and _he might see._ Oh god she’s turned into a 13-year-old. She tries not to giggle.

“Eames? What are you doing?”

_Trying to find out if we’re fucking compatible!_

“I’m…in the…I’m waiting for my doctor. I have an appointment, remember?”

She can actually hear him remembering.

“I do…I just thought…you’d be _finished_ by now.”

“Well, I’m not, all right?”

“All right. Is everything…you okay?”

_See, if we were MEANT TO BE TOGETHER you would already know that I am not. Christ._

“I’m fine. I’m hotter than hell and I’m just really tired of waiting.” The receptionist hears this last exchange and gives Alex one evil eye. Alex lowers her voice. “I have to go. Everything is fine. It’s just a checkup.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I…bought you a coffee…”

“Bobby, it’s a million degrees—”

“Iced… _iced_ coffee. I…guess I’ll put it in the fridge at work…”

“Oh. That was nice of you. Thanks.”

_Definite boyfriend potential there, Bobby._

“It’s all right.”

“I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Have fun.”

“You bet!”

Okay. Okay. Turn to page 44 and find out how CRUSHTASTIC your CRUSH REALLY IS!

_God help me._

She turns. She turns some more. Her mouth drops.

Goddamit to _hell_. The fucking _page is missing_.

“Alexandra Eames?” The receptionist calls in a cold no-nonsense voice. Alex panics.

“Uh…hang on.” She paws the back pages of the magazine. Has to be here. Has to be. It’s not.

“Miss Eames?” She’s using a don’t-fuck-with-me voice now.

“Just a minute!” Alex yells. Everyone looks at her, even the Man Previously Thought to be Dead.

“You can take it in with you, you know,” Green-Snot boy’s mother says helpfully.

Alex jumps up, approaches the receptionist. “Uh…there appears to be a page missing…from here. See? Page…44?”

The receptionist stares. “And?”

“But…you don’t understand. I need…I _need to know_ …” She stops. She slams the magazine down on the counter. “You really should get some new reading material out here.”

The exam room is even hotter than the waiting room. She puts her bag on the chair. She peels off her clothes. She puts on her blue backwards gown. She waits. Her cell rings. She turns it off.

13) How many times a day does your crush call just to see how you’re doing?

_D) More than 10._

She lies down, spreads her legs, waits for the inevitable.

 

//

 

_Fin_


End file.
